


only you can untie me

by treble



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 20:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1360510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treble/pseuds/treble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>short ficlet written for a M/M comment fic battle. stand-alone, originally intended to be part of a bigger series focusing on Annie exploring being 21. this time, in a club. with Jeff. and some scotch. vaguely takes place summer after s3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	only you can untie me

**Author's Note:**

> title from the kate earl song that sparked that week's prompt. the title is probably misleading, given that this is approved for all audiences.. :) some minor adult language, if that sort of thing bothers you.

The floor is shaking from the blare of the bass and she can barely breathe without her skin sliding against a stranger’s.

She’s had at least four drinks, which is one more than her limit (one, getting fun; two, wahoo; three, whoopee; four, bathroom floor). Troy and Britta are somewhere to her right, and they’re doing something that looks like a moonwalking robot on speed. Abed talked his way behind the bar an hour ago and is acting out some Cocktail fantasy, flipping bottles of vodka through the air with a smile that’s 50% Clooney, 40% McConaughey, and 10% Jessica Alba.

Her head feels warm and she’s not sure whether she’s actually still dancing, or whether the swarm of people are just shifting her around in their wake.

She wants to let go, just get swept away, but her stomach is turning and there’s sweat dripping down her neck and maybe she can’t actually see Troy and Britta anymore.

She’s looking around, trying to shove down a rising sense of panic when she feels his eyes on her.

He’s always watching her, whether they acknowledge it or not.

He’s sitting over by the table where they abandoned their coats, sipping what she presumes is a scotch. His face is mostly obscured by the club’s flashing lights but when the downbeat brings with it a brief flash of red she can just make out the determined set of his lips, the slight squint of his eyes.

She watches as he slowly unfolds from his chair and makes his way toward her. He doesn’t break her gaze as he deftly maneuvers a couple standing in his way.

“Hi,” she says softly. She can’t even hear her own words.

“Hi,” he says back. He drops his eyes to his scotch and takes a long sip. “You okay? You looked a little Bambi at the slaughterhouse out here.”

The crowd around them pushes and pulls and she’s moved closer to him. She places her feet in between his so that her whole body is pressed against his. His heartbeat is steady.

“I had four drinks!” She knows she’s shouting now but he leans his head down even closer anyway.

“Four?” he grimaces. “So there’s a high probability that you are going to puke all over my good shoes?”

She shrugs.

“Do you need me to get you out of here?”

She peers up at him. Despite the crush of people, he’s somehow standing completely still. Solid.

The couple making out behind them abruptly shoves backward, causing him to spill part of his drink down her arm.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Annie. C'mon, I'll take you home.”

She stays in place, staring at the scotch trickling down her arm. She tentatively brings her wrist to her mouth and darts her tongue out to catch the drops resting there.

When she looks up, he’s staring down at her with hooded eyes, no trace of a smile on his face.

She brings her wrist up to his mouth, like an offering.

“It made me feel better. Want the rest?”

He stares at her wrist intently as he rubs his thumb up the side of her arm with just a hint of pressure, before finally intertwining his fingers with hers.

She smiles and pulls him deeper into the crowd.

***


End file.
